


Holding Out

by ohclare



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohclare/pseuds/ohclare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two sides to every story. While the powerful dance and play their game of cat and mouse they hide their true selves from everyone. And the streets of London weep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(ie asoiaf characters with superpowers and all that entails. tags in progress)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this universe is more based on Heroes than Marvel but i'm stealing from both.
> 
> things probably seem a bit muddled at the start but if you want clarification about anyone's power let me know

The whole room glistened. There was glass everywhere, reflecting back the candlelight that was the only illumination in the room. The crystals scattered over the black table cloths reflected the light which only added to the affect. It looked perfect. Even though everyone was dressed all in black they were still gossiping and chatting as if it was just another party.

Arya hated it.

She’d never known Robert Baratheon but it just seemed so terrible that nobody seemed to care that he was dead. To everyone here it was just another party and she hated parties more than anything. Not even Mrs Baratheon seemed that upset, she seemed exactly as composed as ever despite the tissue she’d clutched for the press. She’d told her dad that he’d hugged her tight and told her people dealt very differently with grief before disappearing to deal with the other politicians there.

Her siblings were treating it like another party too. Robb and his stupid girlfriend had disappeared off into some corner to suck face hours ago; Sansa was ‘comforting’ Joffrey somewhere; Bran and his friends were busy having one of their deep conversations; and Rickon was busy being… well himself. Even if it was a wake Arya knew that she wouldn’t feel comfortable, she’d never felt comfortable in this world of glamorous parties.

She’d never had any friends in London, everyone at her stuck up all-girls school had either hung around with her because she had a hot older brother or because they didn’t have any friends either; and as for family friends they were all really friends with Sansa or Bran. She wasn’t bitter really, she’d never felt the need for friends the way others did. Syrio (her teacher since the age of ten) had always been her closest friend but he wasn’t the sort to be invited to this sort of thing, not when people didn’t want two and two to be put together.

Arya sighed as she caught a glimpse of Rickon under a table, the time definitely come to slip out for a bit of fresh air. She’d be back before anyone noticed anyway.

She had almost found a balcony when she heard the gunshot.

She didn’t even think as she sprinted towards the noise, she knew it had to be on the other side of the wall and she just ran through it.

She could see the crumpled body on the ground as the blood spilled out and she knew at once who it was. She knew that it was her father.

She tried to press a hand to his chest to stop the bleeding, but somehow she couldn’t become tangible. Every time she put her hand forward it went straight through his chest. Again and again she tried but she couldn’t do it. She could feel hot tears pouring down her face as she tried and tried and great big blubbering sobs burst out of her mouth.

He couldn’t be dead. He wasn’t dead. If she could just stop the bleeding he’d be fine. She knew he was going to be fine. Because he had to be. Because he was her dad. Because the great Ned Stark couldn’t just be dead. He just couldn’t.

She wasn’t aware of others arriving, of their screams and tears behind her.

At some point she had managed to cover herself in blood.

As Robb lifted her up and carried Arya away from the body she screamed at him and smashed her fists against his chest a hundred times.  She screamed at him until her voice gave out because it was the only thing she felt she could do and it did nothing. Suddenly she was so solid and it hurt because why couldn’t she have been solid when it mattered, when she could have saved her dad. She knew that Robb was talking but she couldn’t see how it mattered when they didn’t have a dad anymore, nothing mattered anymore.

She screamed at anyone who came near her, not caring who they were. It didn’t matter who they were when none of them were her dad. He had been the only one who’d loved her for who she really was and he was gone and nothing could bring him back. He was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything that happens in this chapter was initially meant to be summed up in a few sentences, instead grief poured out everywhere
> 
> also R+L=J in this story, which is probably clear from the text but just in case
> 
> plot will start to happen next chapter. promise.

_The Right Honourable Eddard Stark MP was one of a rare breed of politician that people trusted implicitly. Throughout his time in the House of Commons he worked tirelessly for the people of his constituency as well as the downtrodden internationally and nationwide. Even when he became Deputy Leader of the Labour Party three years ago he continued to work tirelessly for individuals. His shooting comes as a shock to everyone who knew him or knew of him and there have been hundreds of tributes been made to him worldwide. He leaves behind his loving wife Catelyn and their five children Robb, Sansa, Arya, Brandon and Rickon._

* * *

 

“Did you know?” Bran demands when he rolls into the Reed’s sitting room. He can feel Meera rushing to stand behind him but he refuses to look at her, instead focusing all his energy on Jojen who is refusing to look at him. “Jojen, please tell me you didn’t know.” He can feel his voice shaking but he’s determined not to cry or yell, he has to be calm about this.

“I knew.” His voice is a murmur but it hits Bran like a truck.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he’s not going to cry.

“I couldn’t.”

Jojen’s face is starting to swim now, Bran knows his eyes are watering and the only thing stopping him is Meera’s cool hands resting on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry Bran but there was nothing anyone could do.”

“I could have said goodbye,” he doesn’t want to cry in front of Meera.

“It would have been worse.” And Jojen who never touches anyone stands up and takes Bran’s hands tightly in his.

“But he was my dad,” he can feel the tears on his cheeks now and he hates himself for it. He had refused to let himself cry and yet he can’t stop himself now.

In an instant Jojen has let go of his hands and instead Meera is there and her arms are wrapped tightly around him as she sits in his lap. “It’s okay,” she whispers to him, “let yourself cry.”

* * *

 

Edmure just sat there and waited for Cat to talk. He just waited for her to be ready. But they just sat there in silence and made arrangements for the funeral and she didn’t talk.

He never thought his oldest sister more perfect than when she dealt with every well-meaning friend and stranger who told her how sorry they were for her loss and she never cried once.

But he cried when he got home each night and Arianne wrapped her arms around him and told him that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

 

Shireen isn’t sure whether her dad has feelings. She knows that being the Met Commissioner means he has to put on a public front but she’d thought that he’d be more upset. Not that she’s sure why she thought that when she’s never seen her parents show any sort of affection towards each other or even her. She’s considered asking Renly what they were like at their wedding before but she’s a little scared of what the answer would be.

So she slips out to see Bran and tries not to be upset when her parents don’t realize she’s not at home.

* * *

 

Robb just felt numb. It still didn’t seem real even after seeing his dad’s body laid out in front of him. He knew he was dead and yet he just seemed as if he’d gone off on a trip and would be back soon. Even when he was on the news it felt as if it was someone else’s dad, it wasn’t his.

Even when he carried the coffin into the church it didn’t seem real. When Jeyne held his hand and tried to give him comfort he didn’t feel as if he needed it and yet he held onto her tight.

He only started crying when he had to let go of her hand and carry his dad out of the church. When suddenly it was his dad in the coffin and he didn’t know what to do.

* * *

 

“My two best friends have just lost their dads and you want me to play the dutiful daughter again?”

Garlan just watched at Margaery yelled at their father across the table, his hand tightly grasped by Leonette’s.

“I’m not asking you to abandon either of them but you have to return to work.”

“No. You’re asking me to go back so I can figure out what the party are thinking. Well I won’t okay. I won’t.” She stared at him for a moment longer before she stormed out, slamming doors as she did so.

“What do you think Willas?”

“I think that you’re likely to get killed considering the fact that the last three leaders of the party have died in the job but you’re unlikely to listen to me.”

Garlan resisted a smile at his brother as he stared their father down, but he could see the faint look of approval in their mother’s eyes.

They all knew that Mace would continue and they all knew that Margaery would come to his side once Olenna spoke to her but Garlan liked the fact that he and Willas would always take their own stance.

“No more family dinners for a while,” he promises Leonette as they drive home.

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

No one notices when Rickon starts to disappear and he likes it. He’s sure that his family know more than they’re telling him and he hates them for it. Just because he’s the youngest. So he runs away and no one cares as long as he’s there for dinner.

* * *

 

Jon is relieved that he’s at base when Ned dies, that he can get back to his mother within twenty four hours. He can still remember how terrible it was for her when Benjen died and he was far away in Iraq. At least this time he can be an actual shoulder to cry on for her.

He’s not sure how he feels still. All he can think of are his cousins who he hasn’t seen properly in years who’ve lost their dad and his mother who’s lost the last of her brothers to gunfire yet again. But most of all he can’t help but think of the small ring box wrapped up and waiting for him to find the right moment so he can give it to Ygritte. It’s so selfish and he tries to forget it and remind himself that he’s meant to be devastated.

Perhaps the worst thing is the fact that he loved his uncle, he was the sort of man that he was aiming to be and yet he doesn’t feel devastated at all.

* * *

 

Arya can’t stop screaming. Every night she dreams of it and wakes drenched in sweat. She promises herself that when she finds out who it was the dreams will stop.

* * *

 

The house is silent now. There’s no Dad yelling at Joffrey or Mum, and there’s no Joffrey yelling at everyone else. Myrcella isn’t sure if she likes it. There may be no fear or anger but she can still feel everyone in the house and it’s horrible because Mum isn’t sad and that feels so wrong.

She doesn’t like to leave either though. She’s not sure how to shield herself anymore so all she can feel is an overwhelming pit of sadness welling up around her everywhere that she goes. She’s lost track of the number of times she’s fainted now but it’s okay because Tommen is normally with her and he knows how to help her.

It’s easier to be alone when she can’t trust herself anymore. And Tommen will always loan her one of his kittens to try and cheer her up.

* * *

 

Willas still isn’t sure why he went to the funeral. He hadn’t known Ned Stark or any of his children beyond casual acquaintances and yet he’d known he had to be there. He’d offered his condolences but he could have done that just as easily elsewhere. And the fact that he’d upset his father again was probably a sign that it might have been better had he stayed away and yet he knew that he was still glad that he’d gone.

* * *

Renly gently kisses the back of Loras’ neck as they lay entwined on their bed. Officially Loras still lives with his parents but everyone really knows that he moved out over a year ago, Renly guesses that they don’t have to pretend anymore now it’s not going to ruin his brother’s political career by having a brother living in sin. “I love you,” he whispers as he kisses him again.

Loras is half asleep he knows because he’s always half asleep after they have sex but Renly continues to whisper to him. Sometimes he likes to whisper secrets to him like this knowing that he’ll have no memory of it when he wakes up, because telling secrets for the first time is always the hardest. That was how he said that he loved him for the first time, even if both of them knew they were in love a long time before that.

“I want to marry you so much,” he whispers, “but I don’t know if I can without Robert being there.”

* * *

Sansa moves in with Joffrey a week after the funeral.


End file.
